


shake like the bough of a willow tree

by mother_hearted



Series: you count up all my scars (crumble them into stars) [19]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Communication, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:07:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24314023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: Claude has weathered through his fair share of storms, his stories locked away in the scars that tickle his rib cage, his anecdotes burned into the small of his back.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: you count up all my scars (crumble them into stars) [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692022
Comments: 7
Kudos: 105





	shake like the bough of a willow tree

Men are like storms, made volatile by the seasons, by mankind’s ministrations. Claude has weathered through his fair share of storms, his stories locked away in the scars that tickle his rib cage, his anecdotes burned into the small of his back. The thrilling conclusion of a chase told in the ripped crescent shaped scar on his heel. 

There is a new storm in his life and unlike the others, he does not need to endure it, rather, he is doing everything he can to embrace it. 

In the library of his private wing, Claude relights his fourth candle of the night to aggressively pour over the text that sent him leaping back out of bed, finally finding that chapter on wyverns and audio processing, and can they get songs stuck in their head? Would he know if Hilal could remember the tune he whistled on his own, could it get lost in the corner of his brain like the tune Claude heard playing in the streets at the heart of Derdriu? 

He’s debating which reference book to check next, if he’ll need to grab his keys to his office when out of the corner of his eye Dimitri bleeds out from the darkness, halfway through Claude’s name when Claude shrieks like he’s just been dumped into an ice water bath. He swings around clutching at his chest like he can keep his heart from jumping out.

“Gods, Dima! Since when did you learn to skulk around so quietly!? I felt my lifespan shorten just now.” 

Dimitri frowns. His good eye squints to make out what he can with Claude’s meager candlelight. “It will shorten if you do not get enough sleep. You already have to be up at dawn.”

“Ah, I know, I know. I got hooked again but it’s nothing a well placed cat nap won’t fix,” he says as he waves his hand, trying to keep the moment light. Dimitri simply scowls deeper. 

“Whatever you say, but your coming and going keeps waking me up! My patience has hit its limit.” 

Claude winces. Feels himself shrinking like a raisin under the sun. “Ahh… I’m sorry, Dima. That’s my bad. Even my quiet footsteps can’t compete with how light a sleeper you are.”

“...it's unavoidable, after my previous living arrangements. Once or twice I can ignore but multiple trips to grab parchment and books is too much. I cannot - rebound like you.”

Claude knows. Unless he’s ill, sleeping during the day just makes Dimitri groggy. The confusion scares him, leaving him vulnerable to the point he actively hides from everyone on the estate. Claude forces himself to sit still and not squirm in his chair, knowing Dimitri is doing his best to manage his moods and here Claude is getting carried away. 

“Yeah.” He shoves a piece of parchment into his book to bookmark his spot. “I’ll get back to bed in a second.”

The flat look on Dimitri’s face doesn’t change before he turns to leave, walking down the hall without a glance back. Comfortable in the dark the way Claude isn’t, not right now. If he were braver, he would ask Dimitri to wait and walk back with him, knowing even at this bottom of the barrel moment, Dimitri would do as he asked. ...but Dimitri is unhappy with him and Claude cannot juggle the panic that brings in addition to the fear from Dimitri sneaking up on him. 

His half-assed clean up will make do until his next visit. He speed walks down the hall with his candle and tries not to look over his shoulder, knowing full well the wing is empty save for Dimitri and himself, his third shift security fresh and on patrol. There is no one waiting to nip at his heels, no reason to be prepared to duck when he rounds a corner. 

Dimitri is already in bed with his back to the door. The set of his shoulders read _agitated_ but not, _stay away_. Even when his moods are stormy and grey, when it comes to Claude, Dimitri is not impenetrable. He snorts quietly at his thought, no, Dimitri certainty isn’t _impenetrable_. 

His dumb joke loosens up some of the tension in his limbs. He blows out his candle just before crawling into bed. Lays a hand on Dimitri’s hip to double check his touch is allowed and when Dimitri doesn’t stir, Claude spoons up against him. Wraps his arms around him, pretending he is enough to shelter the large lion in his arms. Pretends even more his heart is not still hammering down nails into his chest, that he is not listening for the tiniest creak of a floorboard or the click of a window being unlatched. 

“Your breathing is shallow,” Dimitri says out of nowhere, sending Claude’s overactive brain to a screeching halt. “I can feel it on my neck, what’s wrong?” Claude can’t find his tongue, could have sworn it was in his mouth, but it must be gone, when no sound comes out.

“Khalid?”

Dimitri tries to roll over and face him and Claude holds onto him tighter. Dimitri doesn’t sound upset with him and Claude tries to focus on that fact, making it a golden thread of truth to wrap around his finger, a reminder to stop unraveling the frayed threads of his past. 

“Yeah?” Claude rasps out. “Thought you were going back to sleep.”

“I want to make sure you’re okay.”

And the paranoid fear that Dimitri doesn’t love him plucks its stingers out of his brain. Even when Dimitri’s edges are rubbed rough, he still finds the kindness to sand them down, smooth them out so he doesn’t cut Claude. He is the one in Claude’s arms and yet he surrounds Claude all the same, making him small not to crush him but to protect him.

Months into their marriage, Claude can’t shake the thought that his silver tongue and wicked schemes are his only defenses. He forgets his husband is here, ready to be his shield but Claude’s pride scoffs at being coddled and more honestly… he doesn’t know how to stand in his weakness in front of another man. Even the man he calls husband. 

Dimitri’s hand settles large and warm on top of Claude’s, his wordless plea for an answer. They never took vows, married in front of a legal aide in Claude’s office, but Claude promised Dimitri all the same… that he would try. 

He would try to be weak if Dimitri stopped trying to be perfect. Has embraced Dimitri’s moods and unpleasantness because they do not take away from his smile that beams light into Claude’s core, the loving huff he gives when Claude acts like a ham because he does not have to be smooth and suave to keep Dimitri’s heart. 

“Can you roll over?” Claude asks. Feels Dimitri stir, moving his arms to hold Claude instead and oh, hold on. That’s not what he wants. “Wait.”

“Mm?”

“I still want to hold you, I just.” Claude forces himself to take a breath and use it to carry his next words. “I need you between me and the door so I can hold you.”

“Oh, Claude.” 

Dimitri’s voice is soft and low. Sneaking through Claude’s remaining defenses like the slickest thief alive. Claude is grateful he blew out his candle so he can hide in the dark when Dimitri holds his heart in his fist. “I scared you.”

“You did.” Claude squeezes the meat of Dimitri’s hip. “But I’m not afraid of you, Dima.” Verbalizes this more for Dimitri than himself, knowing Dimitri’s latent fears of hurting Claude one day, because he lost control, fell too deep into the terrors that haunt him while he sleeps. “I just.” He starts and stops. Wishes he could unhinge his jaw, let the words spill out that way. “I just,” he tries again, “I have trouble with my back being exposed. Remember how I told you about when I was a kid?”

“The hot cane.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Let’s switch sides,” Dimitri whispers, his arms like a gentle current when they gather Claude up and roll him over Dimitri to the other side of their bed. Claude laughs, or rather, he lets out a hiccup he passes off as a laugh. Claude settles in all over again, comforted by the sight of Dimitri’s dark figure and how it blocks Claude completely out of view. His fingers slide under Dimitri’s sleep shirt when his arms take their rightful place.

“I’m sorry, Claude.” 

Dimitri’s guilt is palpable despite facing away. Claude shakes his head. “None of that.” His turn to chide, to lovingly shush. “You’re allowed to be grumpy with me. You’re only a man.”

Not a boar. 

Claude hugs him tight and feels his heart calm down, his chest pushing into Dimitri’s back when he breathes. 

“A man…” Dimitri repeats, like he’s trying to find room to argue.

Claude gives Dimitri a none too appropriate squeeze to distract him and it works when Dimitri grunts in protest, swatting at the hands grabbing his chest. 

“Claude.” He whines, instantly becoming Claude’s fussy lion and Claude is happy to go to bed on this note. 

“They’re so soft, Dima. Your loving husband couldn’t help sneaking in a bedtime squeeze.”

“Hold me, do not grope me.”

“Well, if you insist.”

“I need to sleep,” Dimitri says but Claude can hear the smile in his voice. 

It has him smiling too. 

“I’m ready,” he says, knowing full well Dimitri has been waiting on him. He won’t keep Dimitri from his rest any longer. 

“Good night, love.” 

“Night, Dima.”

He falls asleep listening not for floorboards or windows but to the light snores of his husband, reminding him he is not alone.


End file.
